


The Bladebreaker's Daughter

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), we love and appreciate Leonie in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28063887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Years after the war has ended, there are still messes to clean up. Leonie, following in Jeralt's footsteps, has volunteered for the job.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Bladebreaker's Daughter

Even after the destruction of Shambhala and the Agarthans, work was still left to be done across Fódlan. Destroying that which remained of Those Who Slither in the Dark, protecting innocents from remaining Edelgard loyalists, stomping out the hordes of bandits that formed in the power gap.  
It was work Leonie was willing to undertake.

The plains of Adrestia blurred and swam as she rode past, pushing her horse to his full capacity. The arrow was in her hands before she could think about it, her instincts taking over.

Ahead, her target rushed through the woods on horseback, casting terrified glances over his shoulder. His eyes were round with fear, his posture hunched to make himself a small target. It was no use, in the end.

Breathe in. Breathe out. _Fire._

The arrow loosed. The string went slack. Time slowed.

A cry of pain. A painful sounding _thud._

The chase was over.

Leonie pulled on the reins of her horse, her heart slowing with the pace of his hoofbeats. Gallop, canter, trot, walk, complete stop.

The bandit’s horse had already left him in the dust, spooked at the loss of its master. She hoped it would find a better home elsewhere, with a kinder master to care for it.

She could feel sweat gathering on the back of her neck, on the skin of her brow. Though she’d been confident it was a fight she could win, worry still prickled under her skin.

She skidded to a stop before the bandit, watching him try to crawl away with an arrow in his side.  
Predictably, it wasn’t precisely going his way.

He writhed on the ground like a worm, clinging to the grass to feebly propel himself forward. When that failed, he attempted to crawl with one arm, the other clutching his stomach where her arrow was still lodged.

With a roll of her eyes, Leonie hopped off her horse, giving him a pat on the neck. He whickered, softly, leaning into her touch for a moment. Her bow going back into her quiver, her hand curling around her lance, she felt ready.

Leonie planted her boot firmly on the bandit’s back, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain.   
“You’d better stop moving. You’re only gonna make things harder for yourself.” She said. 

Her lance tapped lightly against his neck; not enough to wound, but certainly enough to warn.

“I’m not gonna kill you. But you’re gonna end up doing my work for me if you struggle. So calm down and you’ll make both our lives easier, yeah?”

When he looked up at her, shaking underneath her boot, she gave him the most saccharine smile she could muster. Given how quickly his face paled, it was quite a convincing one.

“You made for a good workout!”

Up. Down. Up. Down.  
Leonie’s eyes traced the pouch of coins as she tossed it up in the air, catching it every time it fell.

Despite her insistence that she needn’t be paid for the bandit’s apprehension, it had done little to convince the local guards. They insisted that she deserved the reward.  
And, well. She rather needed it.

Much as she’d wanted to follow the lead of her mentor in becoming a mercenary, taking money to eliminate threats to innocents and not doing so without money on the table...it sat wrong with her.  
She had the deep sense Captain Jeralt wasn’t as much a mercenary as he liked to claim.

The ale in her tankard had sat untouched, growing lukewarm in the stuffy tavern. Though she’d ordered it, she had little taste for it, less so than she thought.

The tavern was full, and rather raucous. People drank and danced with reckless abandon. The laughter in the room was infectious, though at the moment, she had little to laugh about. 

Her mind, as was becoming increasingly common, was at peace. She was where she was meant to be.

“Drink for the pretty lady? I’m buying.” A male voice said.

Well. There went her good mood. 

Planting her best scowl on his face, she looked up into the face of her intruder, only to find herself pleasantly surprised.  
“Sylvain!” She rejoiced.

Sylvain grinned down at her, eyes sparkling in the low light. He wore none of the fancy clothes or elaborate armor she’d seen on him for the past three years, instead donning commoner’s garb as she did.

Leonie slid out of her seat, standing to pull him into a fierce embrace. He bent to let her rest her chin on his shoulder, his arms entirely wrapping around her.

“Hey, Pinelli.” He greeted, warmly.  
“Hey, Gautier! It’s been too long. What brings you all the way out here?”

Sylvain pulled back with a pat on her shoulder blade. He ran a hand through his hair, further mussing it from its already disheveled shape.

“Headed to Fhirdiad for His Majesty’s birthday. Are you coming?” Sylvain was already sliding into the booth across from her.  
Leonie returned to her seat and her underwhelming ale, already feeling confusion setting in.

“I thought only former Blue Lions were invited to that.”   
Sylvain’s face matched how she felt with a look of unadulterated confusion. “You _are_ a Blue Lion.”  
“Well, yeah, but. Not really. I mean, I was a Golden Deer first.”  
He rolled his eyes, heavily. “You joined three months into the semester and came on every mission with us. You came to the reunion. You don’t get to help kill my brother then turn around and say you aren’t one of us.”  
His wry smile showed her it was alright to laugh.

“Trust me, Dimitri would love to have you there. We all would. I know Felix has been itching for another fight. And be honest with me, can you really pass up a chance to see Ingrid in her third trimester, all waddling and grouchy?”

The mere image was enough to make her laugh loud enough to draw attention to herself. If Sylvain minded, he said nothing, only smiled over at her.

“Alright, yeah. I’ll stop by and pay His Majesty a visit. Hope he doesn’t mind me raising some hell.”  
“If he minded, I wouldn’t be invited.”

Leonie picked up her tankard, staring into it, absently. Her own eyes looked back at her, thoughtful and fond.

“I just got a few more things to take care of, then I’m all yours.”  
Sylvain gesetured to a barmaid, holding his hand up to show he wanted two fresh pints. “Right, the second coming of the Bladebreaker. Word’s getting around about you.”

Leonie felt her cheeks color.

“Second coming, huh? I don’t mind that.”

The barmaid chose that moment to stride up, placing tankards before the both of them. Without asking, she swept away Leonie’s old one and gave her a wink.  
“On the house, hon.”

Leonie’s cheeks deepened in color, drawing a laugh from Sylvain. She only took a deep drink from her tankard, shooting him a glare over the rim.

“I guess she digs heroes.”

Leonie flipped him the bird.

Leonie twirled her lance her hand, feeling something of a scoff bubble up in her chest.

She was outnumbered, ten to one. Untrained bandits surrounded her in a circle, wielding crude weapons, donning mocking sneers. Cutthroats who killed and stole for the fun of it, all lacking in skill and class.

“This is the _Bladebreaker’s daughter_ , huh? Whaddya think, boys? She looks like a little girl to me.” The one that was clearly the leader sneered.

Leonie rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. We gonna fight or are you gonna keep wasting my time?” She goaded. 

She’d taken on far worse battles with far worse circumstances. Long ago, Captain Jeralt had taught her how to take on hordes of enemies at a time. It had come in useful more times than he’d likely ever anticipated.

She’d learned long ago not to take anything brigands and bandits said too seriously, especially not when their backs were against the wall. But something about the words stuck with her.

Bladebreaker’s daughter.  
She liked that a fair bit better than ‘second coming’.

Leonie only hoped Captain Jeralt didn’t mind her new title, wherever he was.

This thought mattered less as she was plunged into the thrill of the fight, wielding her lance as she was taught.  
As the _Bladebreaker_ taught her.

**Author's Note:**

> It's me, I'm the barmaid. I'm gay for Leonie.


End file.
